


Blowing a Kiss

by cozywilde



Series: Smoochtober [2]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Fluff, Kisses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 09:23:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20871902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cozywilde/pseuds/cozywilde
Summary: Shran's the last person any of the guards would expect to fall prey to distraction tactics, but maybe they've just been using the wrong ones.





	Blowing a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> [Shran](https://toyhou.se/3360890.shran), a grumpy warrior  
[Tasnah](https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=360629&tab=dragon&did=47297450), a man as sweet as his baking  
[Pikalifi](https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=54699&tab=dragon&did=50406333), a guard in training

“Who is  _ that?”  _

Shran jerks the swing of his practice sword to a halt with a grunt of effort, only his quick reaction saving Pikalifi from a wicked bruise. His shield has dropped a good foot in his distraction, eyes fixed somewhere beyond Shran’s shoulder. 

“Hey, focus.” Irritable, Shran raps him on the top of the head with the tip of his sword. 

“Ow, what the fuck!” Pikalifi whines, as if it was actually sharpened steel rather than blunt wood. He swings his own sword in a wild retaliatory arc that Shran blocks with a roll of his eyes and a sigh. “Just  _ look,  _ Shran, c’mon!” 

Shran snorts. “Yeah, let me just turn around to gawk at nothing so you can whack me while my guard’s down.” 

“He’s not nothing, he’s hot!” Pikalifi protests. “Seriously, just look, would I lie about a seven-foot-tall beefcake with arms as big as my whole torso?” 

“Sure you would,” Shran says - a touch doubtful. Pikalifi’s eyes are glazed in a way that tells Shran that he’s either got a great mental picture going, or he’s actually not lying. 

“Oh my gods  _ he’s looking at us, _ ” Pikalifi squeaks, and fumbles his sword to the ground in a fit of embarrassed delight. Which at least means it’s safe for Shran to sneak a quick peek himself. 

To his surprise, there is someone behind him, leaned casually against the waist-high fence that rings the training grounds. Shran would recognize Tasnah’s broad frame anywhere - thick arms crossed lazily on the fence, fluffy hair as good as a halo in the mid-afternoon sun. Perfect for an angel like him. He breaks into a beaming smile as he sees Shran looking, raising a hand to wave. 

“Wait, you  _ know him? _ ” Pikalifi asks, incredulous. 

“I - uh -” Shran attempts. A little dumbfounded in his surprise, he lifts his sword arm in an awkward reply. 

Tasnah’s grin widens, and he lifts his hand to his mouth to frame an exaggerated smooch. His cheeks puff out as he blows across his palm, sending it Shran’s way. 

“What a  _ dork, _ ” Shran mutters, as if he hasn’t just flushed a deep red. Damn his pale skin. He can’t hear Tasnah’s delighted laughter from here, but he recognizes the way his shoulders are shaking. 

“Oh my  _ gods _ ,” Pikalifi says again. “Is he - at  _ you? _ ” 

Shran coughs, clearing his suddenly dry throat. “Drop the disbelief if you don’t want your ass handed to you when I get back,” he says gruffly, dropping his practice sword and shield to the sandy ground. 

“When you - what?” Pikalifi asks. “Where are you going?” 

Ignoring his questions, Shran tosses a vague “see you in a bit” over his shoulder as he strides away, a little smile of his own curling his lips. He’s got a kiss to return. 


End file.
